How Insincere Are Your Fingerprints?
by PoeticallyPathetic19
Summary: One shot sidepiece to 'give me a reason'. Sam's wondering just how important he really is to Dean. Wincest warning, of course!


-Note- Wow, so this one was a long way coming, eh? It's the scene mentioned in 'give me a reason' and a bit of a sidepiece/oneshot. Hope its steamy and angsty enough for ya'll! The sequel is so on the way, first chapters done and all! Much thanks to my wonderful 'muse in a mask', Miss Cinnamon, who without I'd be lost!

Sam had been turning this over and over in his mind for weeks. It was dangerous and stupid, and most definitely necessary. His relationship with Dean wasn't going anywhere, at least as far as he could see. There was still that distance between them that only disappeared when Dad was gone, or occasionally in the middle of the night when they were both too horny to get by without something from the other.

Otherwise, it was a smart ass comment and a smirk, before chasing after another girl. Sam was never sure if Dean actually followed through with them, or not and he didn't think he wanted to know. It wasn't hard for him to see that this meant more to him than it did to Dean. Because Sam couldn't even look at someone else. Let alone think of doing anything with them.

If he could end things with Dean he would. On the one hand, Sam knew that he deserved more than what Dean gave him; more attention, more love and definitely more fidelity if the perfume he always seemed to smell of meant anything. Though on the other hand, Sam didn't believe that he deserved Dean. His older brother was unbelievably gorgeous, with the attitude to match. He played it cool with his quick remarks and cocky grin, letting everyone just assume that he was sex and nothing more. But Sam knew the real Dean, it was impossible for him not to. Being in love with your older brother for most of your life made it pretty hard to ignore things.

Like how smart Dean really was, but how afraid he was to show it. He was afraid of becoming attached to their surroundings, to school and to other people outside of their family.

Because if he started to actually like school, he might want to apply himself, he might actually want something more out of life than what Dad was giving, and he couldn't do that.

Family was number one. Dean's needs were always on the backburner.

Which was another thing about Dean that twisted Sam up so bad that sometimes he couldn't remember his own name; Dean was selfless to a fault and never complained. Not one damn time, no matter what it cost him. And the fact that most of the time he sacrificed for Sam, gave his younger brother every last bit of attention and time he could, made Sam feel pretty worthless whenever he thought about the few things Dean didn't give him.

It was all stupid, round about logic that only drove him more insane. The way that Dean could just shrug everything off and pretend like nothing had happened. And then when he wanted it, it was always pleasesammyohgod. Forget Sam and all his insecurities, his fears.

Because really, what was keeping Dean with him?

Nothing.

They were just fooling around, touching, kissing. There were no promises and even fewer loving gestures. The only thing Dean ever did was call him baby, and that was only after one or both had almost lost their lives. The only time he showed that he cared for Sam in any way other than as his baby brother.

So he was fed up. He'd watch Dean leave one too many times in the arms of someone else and he wanted to know Dean's real feelings about him now before things got anymore confusing. He was letting Dean get to him, letting his fear and pain make him physically ill. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to, but it had to happen. And he figured the best time to do it, would be now.

Dad was passed out down the hall in front of the T.V. and there was no way he was waking up any time soon without some serious pushing. Something Dean wouldn't want to do if for any other reason than to keep this a secret from Dad. Because wouldn't that be just perfect? There'd be no more hiding Sam then, it'd all be out in the open and that would be the end of them. Feelings or not, Dean couldn't and wouldn't stick around then.

Sam could hear Dean in the kitchen, putting away dishes and whatever food was left from their half eaten dinner. Neither had really been hungry tonight, things had been pretty sour with Dad. They always were when he was drinking and Sam was in one of his moods, like he was tonight. Having seen Dean spend half of his day pressed up against his locker by some blonde Sam never wanted to know.

When words had almost turned to blows Dean had come between them and took Sam by the shoulders, walking him backwards out of the kitchen and into their shared bedroom. Dad wouldn't hit Dean, probably wouldn't even argue with him, but with Sam you could never tell. So with a disappointed and frustrated glare Dean had left him to spend the rest of his night replaying every damn minute of what Sam could only assume led to a heavy make out session.

After two solid hours of memorizing the ceiling, he'd finally tossed aside his history book, and made it as far as the bedroom door before he froze. Sam stared at it for a good five minutes wondering if he was ever really going to have the courage to do this and possibly put them both out of their misery when he realized how pathetic he was being. Even more pathetic than trailing around after Dean like a lovesick puppy. This was most definitely a new low for him.

Cursing his pathetic need for his older brother and his sickeningly irresistible smile, he quietly made his way to the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway, watching Dean while he had the chance. After this he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to look at his brother like this again, and he wasn't quite ready to give that up.

Dean was humming low under his breath, his dirty blonde head bent as he washed the dishes. From where Sam was standing he could just make out the faint traces of a hickey low on the back of Dean's neck. His hand unconsciously moved to his own neck where he knew a matching hickey was hidden. Dean always did like to return favors.

A bittersweet smile crossed his face at the memory of his brother's ridiculously perfect lips. His stomach twisted with desire and for a brief second Sam considered slamming Dean up against the counter and kissing him until he'd forgotten every insecurity and doubt he had. Getting lost in Dean was the only way he knew to stop the aching in his chest.

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't forget that he was in love with Dean, and that Dean's own feelings for him were practically nonexistent as far as he could tell. He was stuck. Stuck between wanting to fool himself into believing that Dean was his and only his, and wanting a definite answer that may rip his heart to pieces.

"You need something, Sammy?" Dean's low voice startled him out of his thoughts and he nearly tripped forward into the stove with all his usual grace. Sam swallowed and took a step into the kitchen, watching Dean tense the closer he got. Hell yes he needed something, he needed a lot of 'something's. But mostly he just needed Dean. "Sam?" his brother said again, his worried tone making Sam realize that he hadn't answered Dean.

"I, uh, I saw you today." Sam winced. Dammit, that wasn't how he wanted to start things off, with a fight. It had just slipped out.

Dean laughed in disbelief and shut the water off. "That's what you wanted?" Like it was so crazy for Sam to be jealous of a girl that had spent the better part of the day hanging all over Dean. Dean who was coming home every night to him.

"Not really." He wanted more than that. It was just harder to bring up then what had started things off for him.

Dean turned, leaning back against the counter, one leg over the other. "Then what did you want?"

Sam's breath caught in his throat and he had to remind himself to breathe in and out regularly instead of waiting until he was on the verge of passing out. Dean never ceased to amaze him-for all the good, and the bad- Dean could catch him off guard with not an ounce of effort. His laid back attitude, teasing tone, and knowing eyes. Waiting for Sam to come right out and say all the things Dean already knew.

Dean grinned, letting his arms drop to his sides as he strolled towards Sam. "Reassurance, baby?" he asked. His hands found his way to Sam's hips, fingers digging into his skin just enough to make his presence known. "You want me to tell you she didn't mean anything?" Dean's lips pressed to Sam's ear, warm breath sending shivers down his spine.

Sam nodded dumbly because he couldn't get himself to do much else. He was lucky he could remind himself to breathe as it was, nodding was an amazing feat. His brother's soft laughter shook him down to the core, reminding him just how much control Dean had over him.

"She didn't mean anything," Dean murmured, nuzzling closer until their bodies were only inches apart. "You should know that, Sammy."

"Then why?" Sam finally managed to ask, the admonishment in Dean's voice grating on his nerves. Just because she meant nothing to Dean, didn't make it okay for him to fool around on Sam. Didn't take the sting out of knowing that, that girl could be all over his brother and the most Sam could do was hope for fevered kisses in the cover of darkness.

"Why what?" he asked, pulling back just enough to look at Sam. "Why didn't she mean anything?"

Sam scowled. This wasn't a game to him and he was tired of Dean stepping all over his feelings like they meant nothing because he couldn't handle them. "Yeah," Sam shot back, angrily brushing Dean's hands off. "But for starters why don't you just tell me why you even bother if she doesn't mean anything?"

Dean rolled his eyes and caught Sam around the waist before he could turn and leave, holding him tightly against his chest. All teasing gone from his eyes, Dean lowered his mouth to Sam's, placing a slow, gentle kiss to his lips like he hadn't since they'd first started things.

"I didn't do anything with her, Sam." Dean tilted his chin up, forcing Sam to look him in the eye. "I never do anything with them. It's all for show, baby brother."

Sam pulled a face, annoyed and disgusted at once. Why couldn't Dean just say that and save Sam the hours of paranoia and heartache? Why did Dean even have to put on a show? They'd be gone in a week or two anyway, no one there to impress-as if his brother truly cared about impressing anyone other then Dad.

Dean laughed again, clearly enjoying Sam's jealously. "Keep making that face and I don't know what I might do," he teased.

Smacking him lightly, Sam leaned in, tilting his chin up further for a kiss. "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me then."

Raising a brow, a slow grin spread across Dean's face. "I think I can handle that."

Letting his hands fall against Dean's chest, Sam pressed his mouth to Dean's and let his brother melt away all the doubts in his mind. The true reassurance coming from the way Dean's hands cradled him gently, as if he were fragile and would break with one wrong move, even as his kisses became fierce.

Sam could feel his knees getting weak and his temperature rising. Every ounce of strength slowly leaking away with each and every brush of Dean's tongue. A loud groan from the other room broke through the haze, reminding him that Dad was one room away with no door or lock between them. Not even the cover of darkness. It suddenly hit Sam that Dean was doing what he did best-outside of kissing, and other things Sam was sure-avoiding. He was avoiding talking because he knew exactly what Sam had come out here for. Had even hinted at it with his teasing about reassurances.

He pushed Dean away, gasping for air and the clarity he'd come into the room with. Leave it to Dean to have him turned inside out with a few choice words and kisses. Sam had barely made it five minutes before he'd fallen under Dean's spell all over again.

"Dad's in the other room," Sam accused. "The only reason you'd ever risk that is if you're feeling guilty or avoiding something. And considering you just told me you didn't do anything with that girl, I'd say it's avoidance."

Dean shook his head. "You're paranoid, Sammy."

"And you're full of shit," Sam retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Avoidance it was.

"You've known that your whole life," Dean pointed out. "Never stopped you before."

"That's not what's stopping me." Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could feel his energy and resolve fading. It just too much out of him to have to talk in circles with his brother when all he wanted to do was ask him where this was going and how he really felt. Two simple and unbelievably complex questions.

"Then what is?" Dean asked, his hands somehow finding their way back to Sam's waist. Sneaky fingers dancing across bare skin and shortening out Sam's brain with ridiculous ease.

"You." It was Dean and all his games. His sweet, meaningful words that two seconds later seem like nothing- like Sam had just imagined it all. So he wasn't sleeping with anyone else? Maybe it was just better at home? That would be good for the ego, not much consolation to the heart, but to the ego that would be just great. Or maybe it was just out of respect for the fact that they were brothers and what they're doing is so wrong Dean can't bear to make things any worse. Whatever reason it is, Sam needs to hear it.

Dean's fingers stroked down his side, the other hand still gripping his waist firmly. "I'm not stopping anything. You pushed me away, remember that?"

"I need to know, Dean," Sam said quietly. He was too tired for the back and forth, better to get to the point. If things were going to end, he wanted them to end before he fell into Dean again. "I need to know what this is for you. I need to know what I-"

"Sam," Dean barked, his fingers digging painfully into Sam's skin. He dropped his head, his jaw clenching. "What we're doing is wrong, you know that don't you?"

Sam nodded, his eyes beginning to tear up. He'd known things could go this way and still he'd pushed. He had no one else to blame but himself. "Yes," he whispered weakly, too afraid to try much else and run the risk of his voice cracking.

"Then you know I-" Dean paused, glancing back up at Sam. His eyes were filled with worry and indecision, the only thing unsteady about him now as he drew Sam in closer, this time their bodies touching. "You know I want this, too, Sammy. Just you."

Sam opened his mouth to push it or to tell Dean that he wanted this too, but he found he couldn't move his lips, could barely breathe really, as Dean's mouth came crashing down over his. Dean's kisses frantic like Sam's questions had been.

It seemed almost silly now to think that he'd actually needed to hear from Dean's mouth that he wanted this, all the while knowing that somehow Dean had won again. He'd managed to get out of saying much more than a few sweet words. Wanting this, wanting Sam, didn't mean that Dean wouldn't break his heart in the end. It didn't mean that this would last, or that Dean wouldn't get bored and walk away. It just meant that for now, Sam was what Dean wanted. All he wanted.

Sam kissed Dean back in broken desperation, needing Dean to need him, to want him. It may not be the forever kind for Dean, like it was for Sam, but it was something. It was now. It was Dean, open and honest as he could get. And Sam wasn't going to turn that away because he needed reassurances of forever. He was going to take everything Dean was willing to give, while he was willing to give it and while Sam's heart was all in one piece.

He wasn't sure how it all happened, or even who really started it, just that the frantic kisses had suddenly turned to more. His clothes lying in a heap in the middle of the kitchen floor alongside Dean's, while their father snored away in the other room. Neither remembering, or either not caring.

The kitchen table was cool beneath him, soaking up the heat coursing through him as Dean pushed into him. Sam gasped and twined his arms around Dean's neck, the feel of Dean inside of him finally bringing him back to the present. His brother panting heavily in his ear as he tried to take things slow.

They gasped in unison as Dean slipped fully inside of him, their breathing near non-existent as he stilled. Dean's eyes met his, saying all the things that he couldn't and soothing Sam in a way it never had before. A slow smile spread across Dean's face, strained with the effort not to move until one or both broke, and Sam returned it. An honesty between them that for once wouldn't bring a fight along with it.

It was Sam who broke first, arching up against Dean with a shameless moan and not caring who heard it. He was caught up in Dean and his touch, and there was noting else in the world that mattered more than that. He just wanted Dean to move, and move now.

Dean kissed the corner of his mouth, not bothering to silence him for once, before finally answering Sam's demands. He went slow at first, letting Sam adjust to him. Only thrusting deeper when Sam's legs wrapped tight around his hips, hands sliding to the small of his back. The soft keening bubbling up from Sam's throat was all the encouragement he needed, and suddenly Sam's head was spinning faster than ever as Dean thrust harder, deeper with every breath.

He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, his hips snapping up in answer. Dean's lips pressed against his temple, his hand finding its way down and around Sam's aching cock. A few gentle tugs and Sam was lost. His mind narrowing down to please, hot, so hot, Dean, please.

"Just you," Sam breathed, his mind too blissed out to manage the rest. It didn't matter though, the stutter in Dean's hips letting Sam know that he'd got the message.

Dean kissed his way up Sam's neck, along his jaw and finally back up to his mouth. Swallowing Sam's sharp cry as the pleasure building inside snapped, the fear and uncertainty unraveling with it, until his body was shaking and spent. His mind and heart empty except for the undeniable love he felt for Dean.

His brother's hips stuttered again, his own breathless cry breaking the kiss. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's hips with bruising force as the pleasure overtook him, his thrusts turning erratic. Sam slid his hands up, cupping the back of Dean's neck. Stroking sweat slicked skin as Dean let go in the only way he could.

Dean bit down on his shoulder, a soft moan the only sound in the room next to Sam's heavy breathing. He mouthed his way along Sam's shoulder, his neck, jaw, teasingly brushing against his lips before sliding back down. A frustrated cry pushing its way past Sam's lips and earning a small laugh from Dean. Grinning wickedly, Dean lifted his head, eyes falling instantly to Sam's mouth. Lower lip clenched tight between his teeth to keep from crying out again.

Dean brushed his fingers over Sam's mouth, thumb rubbing at his lower lip until he released it on a sigh. Sam felt his eyes grow heavy, only letting them close fully once Dean's mouth was back on his, kissing him slow and thoroughly until his insides turned to liquid. He sighed again and kissed Dean back with all the strength he had left in him.

He felt Dean's arms wrap around him, drawing Sam against his chest. A hand moving to brush Sam's bangs from his forehead and instantly dropping his heart to his stomach. The odd sensation that this was only the beginning of an ending settling over him.

Sam could almost taste the words waiting to burst free from Dean's mouth, his brother's mind turning them over and over again until he got them just right. Sam returned his face to the crook of Dean's neck and let sleep overtake him. There were no right words for breaking Sam's heart and he didn't want to hear the ones Dean finally settled for.


End file.
